“Bred in the Bone:” Egerton Ryerson, Methodist Polity and Educational Administration, 1844-18501 DAVID YATES No one disputes the fact that the appointment of Egerton Ryerson as Su- perintendent of Education in 1844 was a significant one. Indeed, J.S. Moir has argued that it was “the most important event in the educational history of the province.”2 Even though Ryerson did not single-handedly create the Upper Canadian school system out of whole cloth, his appointment none- theless stands as a watershed event. It was Ryerson who, more than any other single individual, provided the initiative and the ideas to construct an effective system of common schools throughout the province.3 But where did Ryerson get his ideas for this system? What were the sources which influenced him in shaping the fledgling bureaucracy – a state bureaucracy, it must be said, that was virtually the first of its kind in nineteenth-century Ontario?4 The received version of the development of public education under Ryerson’s administration begins with his fifteen- month tour to study the educational systems of the eastern United States, Britain and Europe. Upon his return in 1846, Ryerson wrote his observa- tions and recommendations in a Report on a System of Public Instruction for Upper Canada, which became the basis for the School Act of 1846 and its subsequent refinements. This is the gist of the argument in C.B. Sissons’ magisterial two-volume biography entitled Egerton Ryerson: His Life and Letters. Sissons attributes almost all of Ryerson’s subsequent educational reforms to his overseas experiences. This is also the view taken in J.D. Wilson’s chapter in Canadian Education: A History. Wilson argues that Ryerson’s international tour “sets the framework for the public school system that was evolved over the next three decades.”5 But unlike Historical Papers 1996: Canadian Society of Church History 106 “Bred in the Bone” Sissons, Wilson notes that Ryerson’s system was “much more highly cen- tralized than that of either New York or Massachussetts, the two American states most often referred to by nineteenth-century educational re- formers.”6 More recently Bruce Curtis has written that the report, which was the blueprint for an efficient system of education, “borrowed its curri- culum, teacher training system, and system of inspection from Ireland, its administrative details from New York state and its ‘humanistic’ philos- ophy of education from Prussia via Horace Mann.”7 There are, however, problems with such interpretations. One is that Ryerson’s system was far more centralized than even the American examples to which Wilson and Curtis refer. Another is the assumption that Ryerson had to go abroad to find examples. As the intermittent editor of the highly influential weekly newspaper Christian Guardian between 1829 and 1842, Ryerson was a keen follower of educational practices in Europe and America. Thus when Ryerson left on his overseas tour his mind was not a tabula rasa. Many of his observations could have been made with the knowledge and experience he had acquired before he left.8 Equally, Ryerson might well have drawn on indigenous sources for his ideas, building on the earlier failed experiments in system-building attempted by John Strachan, and the debate over school reform during the 1830s and early 1840s. Susan Houston and Alison Prentice point out that foreign examples “figure prominently in the pages of Ryerson’s report,” but do not maintain that these sources were the inspiration for Ryerson’s ideas for administrative reform.9 Rather, they suggest that the subsequent school law of 1846, supposedly based upon Ryerson’s report, “drew less on foreign example than on its own Upper Canadian predecessors.”10 And in an early article on the subject, R.D. Gidney attributes the development of Ontario’s “monolith” to “Upper Canadian conservatism” which sought to develop an efficient and effective educational system to “protect and preserve a fragile political structure within which an indigenous tradition could grow.”11 There are elements of truth in all of these interpretive stances, and all, it must be said, are more sophisticated than this brief historiographical review can suggest. But equally, all overlook one critical hypothesis that deserves exploration. Egerton Ryerson was not only the chief architect of the educational system but a Methodist minister, steeped in Methodist beliefs and doctrines. And the origins of his administrative reforms may well lie in his lived experience of Methodism rather than in his foreign tours, his admittedly wide and eclectic reading before 1846, or his political David Yates 107 aspirations for the future of Upper Canadian society. On the one hand, an older generation of historians, in most cases scholars not primarily concerned with educational history, have at least recognized the centrality of religion even if they assume its influence on institution-building rather than explain that influence. C.B. Sissons wrote that “the primary and dominanxt motive of his [Ryerson’s] life was religious.”12 According to Robin Harris, “Ryerson was a Christian, first, last, and all the time . [Ryerson] was a particular kind of Christian, a Methodist, and he subscribed fully to the doctrines of that Church.”13 Aside from an overlooked article by Goldwin French and an unpublished Ph.D. dissertation by Alberto Fiorino, little effort has been made to examine precisely how Ryerson’s Methodism shaped his concept of education.14 More important, none of these authors attempt to compare Methodist polity with Ryerson’s organizational schemes. The revisionist educational historians who began writing in the late 1960s and 1970s, on the other hand, have generally been reluctant even to acknowledge the power of religious conviction in shaping secular institu- tions, or to attribute nascent forms of social organization to pre-existing models, and this applies not only to the administrative structure itself but to the promotion of schooling generally. For example, in neither of his early articles on these subjects does R.D. Gidney give religion any sus- tained attention.15 And though a decade later he would begin a short bio- graphy of Ryerson by pointing to the centrality of religion in Ryerson’s life, he does not pursue the idea with respect to the school system itself.16 Both Susan Houston and Alison Prentice explain the development of the province’s school system in terms of the efforts of the state and various interest groups to produce an industrious, loyal, sober and “respectable” citizenry.17 In Building the Educational State Bruce Curtis maintains that a coercive and centralized bureaucracy was designed to promote bourgeois and capitalist forms of state formation and to create a populace loyal and subservient to those forms. Whatever the particular interpretive emphasis, in any case, religion, and more particularly the role of Methodism, gets short shrift. Ontario’s educational historians, nonetheless, have been in good company on this point: the academic study of religion has been terra incognita for most social historians over the last thirty years, and not just in Ontario but elsewhere as well. Too often the role of religious sentiment as a means of effecting social, economic and political change has been dismissed, underestimated or maligned outright. Perhaps the most specta- 108 “Bred in the Bone” cular example of the latter case, but one that has been enormously in- fluential, is E.P. Thompson’s landmark work, The Making of the English Working Class. Thompson credits Methodism with almost single-handedly defusing early nineteenth-century working-class discontent in England through “religious terrorism” in Methodist-run Sunday Schools.18 Only in recent years has the importance of religion as a social force has been given a more positive and judicious reading. J.C.D. Clark chal- lenges Thompson’s cynicism regarding the socio-political function of re- ligious institutions. According to Clark, one cannot begin to understand eighteenth and early nineteenth-century British society unless one under- stands the paramount influence of religious feeling amongst all classes. Clark contends that British society’s “motives and values essentially . depended first and foremost on religion.”19 Similarly, the respectability of evangelical Christianity as an intellectual movement has been partially restored by Boyd Hilton, a British political economist. Hilton, like Clark, argues that “before 1850, especially, religious feeling and biblical ter- minology so permeated all aspects of thought (including atheism) that it is hard to dismiss as epiphenomenal.”20 This permeation of religious senti- ment in British society, particularly amongst the middle classes, Hilton argues, had a profound impact upon the social, political and economic institutions which developed throughout the nineteenth century.21 Similar conclusions have been reached by influential American his- torians. Nathan O. Hatch has re-examined the importance of evangelical Protestantism in post-revolutionary America. Religion, far from acting as an agent of social control as Thompson would argue, was a popular and dynamic element in the promotion of egalitarian republicanism. Evangeli- cal sects such as the Baptists and Methodists demanded fundamental social reform. Radical measures such as the abolition of slavery, universal manhood suffrage, temperance and publicly funded schooling were major causes which these religious groups advocated.22 To ignore or deprecate the impact of